Battling the Enemy Within
by JasonMorganfan87
Summary: About a month after leaving for Stanford, Sam shows up on Bobby's doorstep with a big secret concerning his health.  Will Bobby and the Winchesters find out the truth?  Will Sam even live long enough for them to find out?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of it's characters.**

**Battling the Enemy Within**

Bobby Singer opened the front door to find Sam Winchester on the other side. "Sam? What are you doing here? I thought you were away at school."

"Hey, Bobby. I'm actually on break. I just didn't want to stay in the dorms. It's okay that I'm here, right?" Sam asked.

"Of course it is, you idjit. Get in here," Bobby said.

Sam smiled and walked inside.

"Why come here though? Why not go to wherever your dad and Dean are?" Bobby asked as he closed the door behind Sam.

"I don't know where they are. They wouldn't want to see me anyway. My dad told me if I left I wasn't to come back," Sam said with hurt in his voice.

Bobby silently cursed John. John was for the most part a good man, but he could be an ass sometimes. When it came to his kids, it was either John's way or no way at all.

Sam groaned and grabbed his hand like it hurt.

"You okay, Sam?" Bobby asked concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Listen, it was a long trip. I'm just going to go lay down for awhile, if you don't mind," he said.

"Yeah, it's fine," Bobby told him.

Sam nodded and started up the stairs for the bedroom he had there.

Bobby watched as Sam left the room. Something wasn't right. First of all, it was October. What college had a break in the middle of October? Second, Sam just didn't seem right. Bobby had known that kid since he was a toddler. He knew everything about him. He knew when he was hiding something. Sam was definitely hiding something, and if it was the last thing he did, Bobby was going to find out what that something was.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Sam woke up in the middle of the night sweating and his joints hurting. He went into the bathroom and grabbed a bottle of Motrin, hoping it would help with the pain. He then grabbed the thermometer and stuck it in his mouth, which hurt because he had a few painful sores in his mouth.

A minute later, he removed the thermometer from his mouth and looked at it. He had a temperature of 103.6.

This wasn't good. Sam had been hoping he wouldn't get sick while he was at Bobby's. He knew he probably shouldn't have come at all, but he didn't' want to be alone.

He'd just found out he was sick. He didn't know how to deal with it. He didn't want to tell anyone just yet, but he also didn't want to be alone and with complete strangers, which was why he went to Bobby's.

The problem was that he'd gotten sick. He wouldn't be able to hide it for long if this particular episode lasted too long, or if he got too sick.

Sam splashed water on his face and decided to try to get back to sleep. He hoped that his fever would die done within the next day or two. If not he would have a decision to make. He would have to decide whether or not to leave and go back to school, or to tell Bobby the truth.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam laid on Bobby's couch. He was in quite a bit of pain. His fever had gone away pretty quickly, but it was replaced with a massive headache. Also, his hands and joints were still aching like crazy.

"Sam, are you okay?" Bobby asked as he entered the living room.

Sam immediately sat up when he saw Bobby. He couldn't let Bobby know how sick he really was. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just have a bit of headache.

Bobby wasn't sure he believed him, but he decided to table it for the time being. "What are you really doing here, Sam?" Bobby asked.

"What do you mean? I told you I'm on a break," Sam told him.

"It's October, Sam. Schools don't have breaks in October. You tell me what's really going on," Bobby demanded.

Sam sighed. He knew this would happen, he just hoped it wouldn't happen this quickly. He wasn't ready for anyone to know the truth. He was still trying to get used to everything himself. He knew he probably shouldn't have come to Bobby's, but while he wasn't ready for anyone to know how sick he was, he also didn't want to be alone.

"Come on, Sam," Bobby urged impatiently.

"I guess I just needed a break," Sam finally said. It wasn't the best excuse, but it was the only one he could come up with.

"A break from school? You were only there a month," Bobby pointed out. It wasn't that he didn't want Sam there. Sam would always be welcome in his home. He just wanted to understand what was going on with the kid.

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "I guess it just wasn't what I was expecting."

"I thought it was what you wanted though," Bobby said.

Sam almost laughed at the irony of that It was what he wanted. He wanted a normal life. A normal school, normal friends, and a very normal illness. "It was. I guess I just started to get home sick. I wanted to be around someone I knew for a little while."

"Why didn't you just say so? You're always welcome here, Sam. I wouldn't have judged your for taking a few days off," he said.

Sam managed to smile, despite the pain he was in. "Thanks, Bobby."

Bobby nodded. "Well, I better get back to work. Cars aint gonna fix themselves," he said before leaving Sam alone in the living room.

Once Bobby was gone, Sam groaned out in pain. He then laid back down and hoped the painkillers he took kicked in soon.

He thought about how all this started. It had started right after he'd had a mandatory physical at Stanford.

_Flashback_

_Sam was sitting in an exam room in the hospital. For some reason they'd called him to come in. Sam had a feeling it had something to do with the physical they'd given him weeks earlier._

"_Mr. Winchester, I'm glad you're here," said the doctor when he entered the room._

"_It's Sam, please. What's going on, Doctor Sans? Why'd I have to come back down here?" Sam asked._

"_There's a problem with your blood work," he said as he grabbed a stool and sat down._

_Sam got nervous when he heard that. Was there something wrong with him? "What is it?"_

"_I think you may be mildly anemic, but I need to be sure. Have you been sick at all lately?" Doctor Sans asked._

"_I had a fever a days ago," Sam told him. He noticed the doctor write what he'd just said down in his chart. "Is that a sign of anemia?"_

"_No, but that could just be a separate issue," the doctor replied. "Have you been extra tired lately?"_

"_Yes, actually I have," Sam answered. "Hey, my hands have been hurting lately too. Could that have something to do with this?"_

_Doctor Sans stopped writing and looked up. "Your hands have been hurting?"_

"_Yeah, they've been aching real bad. I had to take painkillers a few times," Sam said._

"_Has anything else been hurting?" he questioned._

"_Where my elbows are and where my legs bend," Sam replied. He then noticed the doctor get a look on his face. Like he just figured something out. "Is something wrong."_

"_We need to run some more tests."_

_Flashback_

Everything had gone downhill from there. It wasn't long before he was diagnosed with a chronic, incurable condition.

Sam decided to go back upstairs. The pain was just too bad. Bobby would notice if he stayed downstairs.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Bobby was on his was on his way into the bathroom to shower when he heard noises from Sam's room. What he saw when he peered into the room horrified him. Sam was on the floor convulsing violently.


	3. Chapter 3

Bobby paced the waiting room of the hospital. He was extremely worried about Sam. The kid had a seizure. He had to be rushed to the hospital. Bobby had seen a lot of scary things in his life, but he would admit that seeing Sam on the floor convulsing was the most terrifying moment of his life.

"Anyone here for Sam Winchester?"

Bobby turned and rushed towards the doctor who'd spoken. "I'm his Uncle. How is he."

"Hi, I'm Doctor Mitchell. Your nephew is resting comfortably, Mr. Winchester." the doctor said.

"It's Singer, but call me Bobby. Now, what happened?" Bobby asked.

"He had a seizure," Doctor Mitchell told him.

"Yeah, I got that part. Why?" Bobby asked.

"Well, I'm sure you know that with Sam's condition virtually anything is possible," he said.

"What condition?" Bobby asked, raising his voice slightly. He was getting really irritated. This doctor seemed to be incapable of answering straightforward questions.

"I'm sorry, I thought you," Doctor Mitchell said.

"Knew what?" Bobby asked.

"Your nephew has something called Systemic Lupus Erythematosus. It's mostly referred as Lupus.," he replied.

"What the hell is that?" Bobby asked. He'd heard of Lupus, but he didn't really know what it was or how serious it was.

"Let's sit down," Doctor Mitchell said pointing to the chairs in the waiting area.

Bobby nodded and took a seat. Doctor Mitchell sat across from him. "Well?" Bobby asked impatiently.

"SLE is an autoimmune disease, which means it occurs when the body is attacked by the immune system," he said.

"How do you get rid of it?" Bobby asked.

"We don't," Doctor Mitchell said bluntly. "Lupus is an incurable disease. We can treat the symptoms, but we can't get rid of them.

"So he'll be sick forever?" Bobby asked.

"Well, not exactly. Lupus is a chronic condition, which means the symptoms will come and go. He'll have periods where he won't be sick at and then periods where he will be," the doctor explained.

"Will it kill him?" Bobby asked. He prayed the answer was no. He couldn't deal with losing Sam. He knew John and Dean couldn't either.

"I'm not going to lie to you. This disease may kill Sam eventually. Lupus can affect many parts of the body," he said.

"So eventually it's going to kill him?" Bobby asked quietly. He felt like he was going to lose it. He couldn't believe this was happening. Sam could not die. He was only eighteen. The boy had his whole life ahead of him. It couldn't end so quickly. It just couldn't.

"Probably, but with all the medical technology we have nowadays, that could be years down the line."

"It could also be in a few months," Bobby said.

"Yes, but I don't think it will. Your nephew's prognosis is good." Doctor Mitchell assured him.

.

"What will this disease do to him?" asked Bobby.

"There are a wide variety pf possible complications. It can cause damage to his organs, it can affect his blood,, his skin. It can do almost anything. I'll make sure you have a list," the doctor said.

Bobby nodded.

Alright, I need to go check on another patient, please, don't hesitate to have me paged," he told him before leave.

Bobby took out his phone and stared at it for a minute. He knew what he had to do. He just wasn't sure how to do it. How did you tell a man that his son was suffering from a potentially fatal condition? Bobby could barely handle the news, so how was John supposed to.

He sighed and started dialing. He then put the phone up to his ear. It wasn't long before he got the person's voicemail. "John, it's Bobby. You guys need to get up to my place. Now."


	4. Chapter 4

Sam opened his eyes and looked around. He was in a room with white walls and a bunch of medical equipment. From this he deducted that he was in the hospital.

He turned to the right and saw Bobby by his side.

"How you feeling, boy?" Bobby asked, trying to keep the anger he felt out of his voice

"Okay, I guess. What happened?" Sam asked groggily.

"You had a seizure," Bobby said curtly. He was trying not to be angry, but he couldn't help it. Sam lied to his face twice.

Bobby's tone of voice was not lost on Sam. He could tell that the man was angry with him. "You know, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know. You lied to my face." That was the part that pissed him off the most. It wasn't just that Sam hid the truth from him. It was that he lied to him.

"I'm sorry. I just didn't know what to say," said Sam.

"How about the truth?" Bobby asked.

"I couldn't tell you the truth. I couldn't even deal with the truth. I couldn't tell you because I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud," Sam explained.

Bobby understood what Sam was saying. To Sam, as long as he didn't tell anyone, it wasn't true. It was faulty logic, but for someone in Sam's position, it made all the sense in the world. "I'm sorry, son, but this isn't going away. You're going to accept it."

"I know," he said quietly. He knew Bobby was right. He had to stop trying to run away from this. He had to deal with it. "I'm sorry, Bobby."

"I know you are. Don't worry, Sam, we're alright," Bobby assured him.

Sam smiled gratefully.

"But don't you ever lie to me again," Bobby said sternly.

"I won't. I swear," Sam promised. "You're going to tell them aren't you?"

Bobby knew exactly who Sam was talking about. He was talking about John and Dean. "No. You are."

Sam looked away. "My dad probably won't even talk to me. He hates me."

"That is not true. Your daddy loves you, Sam," Bobby assured him.

"He told me that if I left, I shouldn't come back," he reminded Bobby.

"He never should've said that, but I don't think he meant it, Sam. He was just upset and he didn't know any other way to deal with it. He was wrong, but he doesn't hate you," Bobby told him.

"I hope you're right," Sam said.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

A few days later, Bobby went into the kitchen to get a bottle of water for Sam. The kid was having a bad day and Bobby wanted to make things as easy as possible for him, so he was getting Sam something to take his meds with.

He was about to go bring Sam his water when he heard a knock at the door. He quickly turned around to answer the door. When he opened the door, he came face to face with John.

"Hey, Bobby," John greeted.

"John," Bobby acknowledged before moving aside to let him in. "Where's Dean?"

"He'll be here in a few days. He said he was going to take a job in Ohio," John told him.

"You let Dean go on a hunt by himself?" Bobby asked incredulously.

"No, there was no hunt. I checked myself. I think he just went to California to check on Sam," John explained.

"Well, he's going to be mighty disappointed," Bobby commented.

"Why's that?" John asked. He didn't get an answer though because right afterwards, they heard someone on the stairs. John turned just in time to see his son walk into the kitchen.


	5. Chapter 5

John was shocked at the sight of his son. Not just because he was there when he was supposed to be in California, but because he looked awful. The kid was sweating like crazy, he was pale, and he looked like he was about to pass out.

John went over to Sam and put his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Sammy? Son, are you okay?"

Sam wasn't sure what to say. This was not the way he wanted his father to find out he was sick. He was hoping he'd have gotten over this flare by the time his father showed up. "Dad," he said in quiet raspy voice.

John looked down at his son's hand. He had a bottle of pills in it. John took the bottle out of Sam's hand. His eyes widened in fear when he read it. "Anticonvulsants?"

"John, they're just precautionary measures. To prevent it from happening again," Bobby said.

It was the wrong thing to say because it just made John flip out more. Again? Did my boy have a seizure, Bobby?"

"Yes," Bobby admitted.

John turned back to his son and put his hands on the sides of his face. "Sammy. Sammy, talk to me. Tell me what's going on." He needed answers. Sam wasn't even supposed to be there. He was supposed to be away at school. He was supposed to be safe.

"Dad, I'm sick," Sam told him.

That much he could tell. The kid looked like hell. He was obviously sick, but something in his son's voice told John it wasn't just your garden variety flu. "How sick?"

Sam didn't want to tell his father. He knew that once he said the words out loud, he couldn't just pretend it didn't exist anymore. "I have Lupus."

"What's that?" John asked in a frightened voice. He wasn't sure what Lupus was, but he was pretty sure it couldn't be good.

Bobby, who could see that Sam needed to go lay down, walked over to him and John. "John, I'll explain it all to you. Right now, I think Sam needs to get some rest."

John looked back at his son. He looked like he could collapse at any moment. "Yeah, come on, buddy," he said as he led his son up the stairs.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

After getting Sam situated, John went back downstairs and into the kitchen. He then sat down at the table across from Bobby. "Talk to me, Bobby. What's happening to his boy? Is he dying?"

Bobby sighed. As much as he didn't want to, he had to tell John the truth. Sam was his son. He had the right to know what was going on with his own son. "John, from what I understand, this disease can effect every part of the body. Right now, Sum's life isn't in danger."

"But it could be in the future," John finished for him. He then put his head in his hands. He didn't know how to deal with this. Demons and ghosts he could deal with, but his son dying he could not deal with.

"The doctor said that Sam could live a long life. But it's going to be a long hard life. I'm sorry, John, but your boy…your family is never be the same," he said sympathetically.

John picked his head up and took a couple of deep breaths. He needed to get his emotions in check. He could fall apart later. Right now, he needed to find out everything so he could help his son. "Okay, so this thing can fever and seizures. What else can it cause?"

"Everything. It can pretty much effect every part of Sam's body. That's what makes it so dangerous. It can do anything it wants," Bobby explained.

"There's nothing they can do to stop it?" he asked.

"No. They can treat the symptoms, but they can't prevent what's going to happen," Bobby replied.

"So my son's life as he knows it is over," John said before getting up and walking away.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day John was out in the junk yard working on one of the cars for Bobby. It was the only thing that kept his mind off of what was going on with Sam.

"Dad,"

John looked up from the hood and over to his son. Much to his relief the kid looked much better than he did the day before. "Hey kiddo."

"You're still here," Sam commented. He was sure his father would've been long gone by now.

"Yeah, where else would I be?" John asked.

"I just thought you would've left by now," Sam said.

"No, I'm not going anywhere, Sammy. Not without you," John told him.

"But you told me not to come back. You said you didn't want to see me anymore," Sam said quietly.

John immediately felt a deep pang of guilt. No wonder Sam chose to go to Bobby when he found out he was sick instead of coming to him. He probably didn't think he'd be welcome. I never should've said that. I didn't mean it. I just angry. But I never should've said it. Never. I'm so sorry, son."

"So you don't hate me?" he asked.

The guilt John felt got deeper. His own son that he hated him. How could he have let that happen? How could he have let himself get so angry that Sam doubted he loved.

John went over to his son and put his arms around. "I have never hated you. I love you, Sammy. There is nothing on this Earth you can say or do to make me stop loving you.

Sam held onto his father for dear life. "I need you, Dad. Now more than ever. I'm scared."

John continued to hold his son. "I'm here, son. I'm going to get you through this. I promise."

For the first time since his diagnosis, Sam started to feeling something other than pure terror. He felt safe. Somehow, being in his father's arms made everything okay. He finally felt like all wasn't lost.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

John was in the kitchen getting a beer when the front door answered. It was Dean, and he did not look happy.

"I'm gonna kill him. I'm gonna freaking kill him," Dean said angrily. He'd gotten all the way to his brother's school only to find out that he wasn't there.

"You're not killing anyone, Dean," John told him. He knew that his son was angry because he hadn't found Sam Stanford.

"Dad, Sam wasn't at school," Dean told his father.

"I'm aware of that, son," he said as he took a seat at the kitchen table.

"What? How?" Dean wondered. He then sat down across from his father.

"Your brother's upstairs," said John.

"He's here? What's he doing here?" Dean asked. It just didn't make sense. It was the beginning of the school year. His brother should be in school.

John sighed. His son was not going to take this. He'd probably take it even worse than John did. "Dean, your brother is sick."

"How sick?" Dean asked, unsure if he even wanted the answer.

"He has Lupus," John relied.

"What's that? What's it do?" he asked nervously.

"Everything. It can affect everything from his skin to his internal organs," John explained.

"Are you saying he could die?" Dean asked. No way he accept that. No way. His brother would not die. He could not let that happen.

John didn't answer. He couldn't bring himself.

Dean jumped up and started for the stairs. He needed to see his little brother.

John got up and grabbed his son by the arm. "You be careful what you say to him. Don't upset him."

Dean nodded and continued up the stairs.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam was laying on his bed reading a book when he heard someone in the doorway. He looked up and saw his brother. "Dean," he said as he stood up.

Dean looked at his brother. The kid didn't looked the same as the last time he'd seen him. Maybe the doctors were wrong or something. It wouldn't be the first time.

Sam could tell his brother knew. He kept looking at him as if he was trying to figure him out. Like he was trying to decide if it was true. "It's true, Dean."

"You don't look sick, Sammy," Dean said.

"Right now I'm not for the most part. But that could change as early as tomorrow. This is just how it works, Dean. Sometimes I have good days and sometimes I have really bad days. Today just happens to be a good one," Sam explained.

Dean sat down at the foot of Sam's bed. "Can you tell me what happens when you get sick?" If he was going to help his brother, he needed to find out as much as possible.

Sam went and sat down next to his brother. "It depends. Sometimes it's not so bad. Other times it's so bad I can barely get out of bed. That's how it was the other day when Dad showed up."

"So that's how it works? One day your sick and the next you're not?" Dean asked. He didn't like the sound of that. It sounded worse than death.

"No, not exactly. Right now I'm having what they call a flare, which is when I get sick. When it ends, I'll feel better for awhile," he explained.

"How long have you known?" Dean wondered.

"A couple weeks," Sam replied.

"Why didn't you call me?" Dean asked.

Sam laughed slightly. "And say what. 'Hey Dean, it's Sam. I just found out I have a incurable disease. Talk to you later.' Yeah, I'm sure that would've gone over real well."

"You should've told me. I mean, you told Bobby," Dean said with a hint of hurt in his voice. It really bothered him that his brother told Bobby he was sick and not him. Sam used to tell him everything.

"No, I didn't," Sam informed him. "I didn't tell Bobby anything. I came here because I wanted to be around someone I knew. I thought I could be here for a little while and not say anything. My body had other plans."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, I was hoping I wouldn't get sick while I was here, but it didn't work out that way. There was a complication and I had to go to the hospital," Sam said carefully. He knew his brother was going to flip out when he heard that.

"What?" Dean asked in fear.

"It's okay. I'm fine now," Sam assured him.

"What happened?" Dean asked.

"I had a seizure," Sam replied.

"A seizure?" Dean exclaimed. All he could do is picture his little brother convulsing on the floor. He did not like that image at all.

"Yeah, but I'm okay now. They gave me some medication to help prevent it from happening again," he said.

"Why didn't anyone call us?" Dean asked angrily. It pissed him off beyond belief to know that he wasn't there while his brother was in the hospital.

"Bobby called Dad. Why do you think he wanted you guys here?" Sam asked.

Dean actually hadn't thought about it. He hadn't been able to think straight since he found out Sam was sick. "Right."

"I'm scared, Dean," Sam said after a long pause.

_So am I_, Dean said to himself. He wouldn't say it out loud though. Sam needed him to strong for him. And that was exactly what he was going to do. "It's okay, Sammy. Everything's going to be okay," he assured his brother. He just prayed he was right.


End file.
